God Bless the Food Network
by GSRfanatic25
Summary: my first challenge fic, i dunno if i did it right, but there it is.  SMUT. my first love making' scene. it felt awkward writing it, but practice makes perfect, right? GSR, of course. RR, i wanna know how to improve, and only you can help!


I stole this challenge from someone's story. The criteria was:

chocolate

mention of the Food Network

SMUT

Sara in a skirt

pool table

Just wanted to try my hand!

GOD BLESS THE FOOD NETWORK

The sweet, brown liquid dripped slowly from her fingers as she transferred the brownie mix from the counter to the oven in their small kitchen. He watched, transfixed, as she lifted the fingers to her mouth to lick them clean. His hand shot out before he could stop it and latched around her small wrist. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, confused at first, then softening to amusement at the lust she found in his baby blues. He slowly lifted her fingers to meet his lips, licking slowly and gently until all trace of the chocolate had gone; all the while, holding her gaze with passionate intensity. As he finished, he placed a light kiss on the top of her knuckles and then relinquished it begrudgingly so that she could resume the cleaning process.

She sighed, disappointed by the broken contact, but proceeded to wipe down the kitchen, scrubbing away all evidence of her previous hour's efforts to accomplish the new recipe. She'd never been much of a baker, but she knew how much he loved home-baked goodies, and when she'd seen this simple project being broadcast on the T.V. earlier that afternoon, she hadn't been able to resist the challenge, knowing that her reward would surely be a _sweet_ one.

"So, uh, is this a special occasion or do you always bake in such scanty attire?" he asked, with a smirk in his voice and a devious glint in his eye.

She groaned loudly, rolling her eyes and adjusting the skirt she had been forced to don that morning.

"Yeah, I don't usually, as you very well know, but _someone _forgot to do laundry last night like he promised, so I didn't have much of a choice!"

He smiled smugly, making his way around the counter to stand behind her. Giving her pert ass a playful swat, he leaned in to growl in her ear, "Who says I forgot sweetheart? It could be that I just can't stand not being about to see those long legs of yours on our day off. They're always hidden by those damn pants you insist on wearing every other day."

She turned then, quickly, punching him in the shoulder, and trying without success to look angry with him. "Oh, you are so pathetic."

"Not pathetic," he whispered, kissing her lightly, "just incredibly attracted to you my dear." With that, he plunged his face forward, ravaging her lips with his, and searching feverishly for her tongue. But, she pulled away, denying him access, and sauntered away muttering as she did so, "Attracted, pfft, horny is more like it." He could tell she was teasing him with each swish of her skirt. She disappeared down the hall, and into the room they had designated the playroom, (not to be confused with the bedroom, which was located across the hall).

He followed her quickly, desperate to continue with what he'd been denied moments before. When he reached the door and opened it, his involuntary gasp almost echoed in the small room. There, bent erotically across their recently acquired pool table, aiming a stick at the shiny cue ball, was Sara. The only think he could see however, was her rear. He had the perfect view of what lay beneath her denim mini, and of her never-ending, breath-takingly silky legs. He felt his pants tighten in the now familiar response he seemed to get every time he was near her.

He didn't recall crossing the room, but within moments he was right behind her, his hands finding their way to her hips. She didn't start, as she had known he would be there. She was well-aware of the affect she had on this man-of-steel, and she never got tired of exploiting her power and taunting him. He was always the most fun when he didn't get his way on the first try.

She smiled smugly and began to raise up and turn around. She was stopped, however, by his large hand on the small of her back, gently truncating her movement. He rubbed her back slowly, in small circles with his left hand, while his right hand rescued his now pulsing manhood from its blue jean trap, and then proceeded to slide her underwear down, letting them fall to the ground at her feet.

She was pleasantly surprised by his dominating actions. She loved this side of her bugman, and she silently praised herself for teasing him, as this was sure to be an entertaining bit of playtime. His hands had found her hips once more, and with no attempt whatever at foreplay, he entered her warmth, slowly at first until he found his rhythm. Doing so quickly, he began to thrust hard and fast into her, relishing in each throaty moan that escaped her lips. He worshipped this body, this woman, with unbelievable reverence, but there was nothing reverent about his desperate, and almost violent movements, as he slid in and out of her this day. Sometimes he just had to get his frustrations out, and she did not mind at all.

"S-Sara…" he stuttered, unable to articulate any other words as she tightened around him.

All too soon, it seemed, they were both coming furiously, and moaning each other's names on top of their climaxes. He collapsed on to her, his forearms braced at her sides on the table so as not to crush her slight frame. He was suddenly over come with an incredible and yet, completely satisfying fatigue. She was finally allowed to turn around to face him. She inhaled his scent, delicious and warm, and placed a soft kiss onto his lips. Pulling away, she whispered, "Well, that was fun!"

He smiled his agreement, and just as they began to redress themselves, the oven's alarm sounded from the kitchen.

"I'd better go get those," she grinned, making her way to the door, "how abut some a-la-mode before dinner?"

He kissed her passionately, having matched her progress across the room.

"Wow," she gasped, breathlessly as she pulled away several minutes later, her hand gripping the front of his shirt for support, as she was very weak in the knees at the moment. "I guess I should bake more often, huh?"

"Yeah, I supposed I'm a sucker for a domestic woman in a tiny skirt," he mused, speaking for the first time in quite a while. As she sashayed down the hall once more his grinned from ear to ear. His most prominent thought as he followed her a moment later was, "God bless the Food Network!"

Ze End


End file.
